


it's a crying shame

by shogo



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Gunplay, M/M, Master/Slave, Masturbation, PWP, Power Play, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shogo/pseuds/shogo
Summary: the pistol was cold; an oily, heavy weight on his tongue.





	it's a crying shame

His knees were beginning to ache.

It’s not something that he particularly takes notice of, and it’s nothing that’s alarmingly important as Makishima is finding himself far more occupied with the current task he is faced with. The silk tie bites sharply into the pale skin of his wrists as he tugs at his restraints and his fingernails curl tightly into the palm of his hands where they’re bound behind him.

A soft sigh escapes his lips as his eyes slowly move up to meet his captor’s. Their own gaze is hooded and dark, grey eyes unreadable and cruelly unforgiving. A single thumb catches Makishima’s chin, forcing his head to remain in place. Their hands are elegant, long thin fingers with roughed pads.

“You like this.” Kougami murmurs, his thumb sliding up to press against Makishima’s mouth kneading hard into the plush lip. 

Makishima releases a shaky exhale as the other hand moved to leisurely scrape along his jaw to his hair, curling tightly into the long tresses. “It’s a part of human nature-” He breathes, interrupting himself with a soft noise as his captor pulls the strands taut in their grip. “-people will always crave to be dominated. To be forced into submission.” 

The other man chuckles at that, a low, dry sound. “Is that so.” He remarked flatly, grinding the words out as if they were something distasteful. “That sounds like a whole lot more of your bullshit to me.”

Makishima feels his lip curl at the insult, irritation prickling at his skin as he keeps his eyes trained defiantly upwards. Kougami seems to find amusement in that, in his efforts to preserve the last pieces of his poise. His own lip twitches before he steadily and forcefully slides his thumb into Makishima’s mouth, gripping tight at his jaw.

Another breathy sigh escapes him before he can stop it, relishing the weight on his tongue and the smooth slide of skin over the slick of his mouth. It was all painfully addicting, and as Kougami pressed more insistently, Makishima readily complied with running his tongue over the digit.

He was being greedy, he knew. But as Kougami fed him another two fingers, the blunt digits thick in his mouth, he couldn’t help the noises that escaped past his lips or keep himself from obediently licking and sucking.

Kougami still has a hand wrapped in his hair, long, gorgeous fingers tangled tight to the roots. A cry escapes Makishima as Kougami suddenly yanks his head back, but takes it effortlessly as blunt, short nails scrape just so against the roof of his mouth and against the backs of his teeth. He can’t help but notice though, with a smug sense of satisfaction, the way that Kougami’s dark eyes slowly trail over his face and down the exposed column of his neck and the littered bruises and marks that Kougami himself had left there.

He sucks harder, accidentally catching his teeth on the large knuckles before he wraps his lips around the base of the two fingers, worming his tongue around them and sucking, feeling them tickle at the back of his tongue. He feels violated in the best kind of way as Kougami groans, eyes shaded and tongue licking slow over his lips.

“So fucking greedy.” Kougami growls and mutters another swear word under his breath in heavily accented English. And maybe it’s the way that that low voice sounds like laced with arousal, or maybe it’s the commanding, _dominating_ grip that Kougami has on him right now, but either way Makishima can’t stop the whine that tears from his throat at the words, cock hard and leaking in his trousers from all the treatment he’s received so far.

He wants to tell Kougami wrong in a clipped tone, to try and salvage some of his decency, but moreso wants to tell the raven just how greedy he could be, just how fucking _depraved_ he could be for the other man, but Kougami slowly pulls his fingers out from Makishima’s mouth, dragging them them heavy across his tongue as he pushes down and Makishima is long past thoughts of preserving his status and is feeling completely fucking _wrecked_ as Kougami leaves his mouth empty and open, fingers still slick and shining with saliva.

Kougami stares at him, eyes unreadable and cold. Only the shallowness of his breath gives him away, along with the impressive tent in his dark slacks. He seems to be inspecting his handiwork, keeping a firm grip on Makishima where he knelt. Then his lip twitches, and suddenly there are spit slick fingers across Makishima’s swollen mouth, catching the redness of his lips and the bobbing of his throat as his hips jerk, cock heavy.

He moans- can’t be bothered to try and stop himself anymore- and golden eyes flicker, when Kougami shoves his fingers straight in, choking Makishima a little before his head is being yanked back again, and he has to stare Kougami straight into those dark, pupil blown eyes, feeling like he can come just from this, just from being on his knees and sucking at Kougami’s fingers like the depraved pet he’s become.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen, he finds himself thinking bitterly in a brief flash of awareness.

But then Kougami stares him straight in the eye, as if daring him, _challenging_ Makishima to try and pay attention to anything but him. Makishima doesn’t even realize that Kougami is moving his foot, the polished leather of oxfords gleaming dully in the bright lights of his office. Makishima fucking _chokes_ , the sound strangled and broken when the pointed toe presses between his thighs, a delicious pressure at the base of his cock and pressing against his balls and he can’t help but rut against it, trapped staring up at Kougami with wide, golden eyes, can’t help sucking harder at those fingers and desperately just wanting Kougami _inside_ him.

Kougami laughs then, dark and heavy and knowing, and his lips are twisted in that vulgar grin that Makishima has come to know so very well, and he chokes himself on Kougami’s fingers, scraping his teeth over the knuckles and sucking as Kougami presses the entire top of the shoe from toe to laces against the bulge of his cock from where it was trapped.

He’d beg if he could, at this point, never one to prolong a loss when he knew he’d been bested. He wanted nuzzle into Kougami’s crotch and just fucking _beg_ for Kougami to let him touch himself or _hell,_  just fuck himself against his oxford, but fuck if this doesn’t somehow turn him on more than swallowing down the entire massive length of Kougami’s cock.

“Good,” Kougami murmurs then, voice betraying his stoicism. Husky and dark and Makishima can’t help the chills it sends over his skin. Filled with promises that he always is sure to deliver on. “you should really see yourself, even someone like you would be disgusted by what you saw.”

Kougami’s fingers twist, nails scraping against the soft, slick flesh of Makishima’s mouth, knotted knuckles knocking down against perfect teeth and he lets Makishima glut himself on his fingers and fuck his crotch against polished oxford almost brutally, the pressure steady and almost torturous as Makishima moans around the fingers in his mouth, feeling them stroke against the back of his throat.

“Like a fucking whore.” Kougami continues breathlessly. And Makishima can see the blown black of his pupils now, the flared nostrils. He’s just as wrecked, Makishima slowly begins to realize through the haze, but he sure is doing hell of a better job at hiding it. “Christ, if I would’ve known…”

The hand fisted in his hair tightens and Makishima’s resultant whimper is muffled by the fingers fucking his mouth, rutting mindlessly against the leather and he can feel the scratch of lace even through his trousers and it’s such a goddamn fucking turn on and Makishima is aching to come, aching to taste, aching for _Kougami_ like he’d never known was capable for a person to feel about another, and Makishima is sure that Kougami is once again trying to kill him.

And fuck, it’s working.

Kougami stands from spot in the armchair, pale forearms tensing, the muscle rippling through the exposed flesh from where the sleeves are rolled up his arms. He crooks his fingers inside Makishima’s mouth, who gives a loud, needy whine when the hard, pointed toe of the oxford is pulled away. But he follows the aggressive pull of Kougami’s fingers, sucking and whimpering and wondering just when Kougami is going to _finally_ put him out his misery with his hands shaking and still tied behind his back and involuntary tears poking at his eyes.

He was almost positive that Kougami had accomplished what a lifetime as a criminal and as a murderer had never done: dirtied his hue. He could almost feel it, the grime and shame curling over snowy skin and hair. Shattered pride resting in his chest as he couldn’t even begin to convince himself that this wasn’t what he wanted, that acting as the chained pet for an escaped enforcer wasn’t the filthy degradation he had always craved.

“I have plans for you.” Kougami says shortly, voice husky and tone clipped. “And if you enjoyed choking down my fingers that badly, then you’re really going to like them.”

Makishima, still sucking on those delectable fingers, moans and shivers when Kougami cups a large, rough palm over the swell of his ass.

“Fucking _made_ for this,” Kougami mutters and Makishima feels his lashes flicker and his breath catch in his throat. He couldn’t deny it if he tried, couldn’t even begin to weave a lie about the way he fucking loved it when Kougami said things like that, the twisted compliments but compliments all the same. He drank them up, soaked them in greedily and basked in the attention.

Using his free hand, Kougami pulls down the lightweight material of Makishima’s slacks and boxers to expose the pale flesh of his ass, trapping his thighs between his trousers where he knelt.

He gasps when Kougami yanks his fingers out from his lips, a whine escaping his lips and his mouth and hanging wide as he feels Kougami slowly stroke two spit soaked fingers over Makishima’s grasping hole.

“Please,” He hears himself say, voice unrecognizable even to himself, wrecked and broken. He doesn’t have control of his body at this point, arching his hips out further and further and nearly sobbing when Kougami grins, dark and slow, pressing one wet finger _into_ Makishima, the slight burn of the ache absolutely _delicious_ and another moan pulling from his lips as he pushes his ass out. He hardly feels when Kougami’s other hand scrapes up along the protruding bones of his ribs, fingers playing along the skin even as Kougami fucks his middle finger into the hilt, long and thick until Makishima is almost crying with the twisted heat he feels pulling at his stomach. Makishima feels his eyes slide shut, fingers twitching in their restraints as he desperately tries to think of a way to agitate Kougami enough to finger fuck him harder.

He feels a soft pressure give way on his ribs, hears the soft rustle of movement as Kougami reaches for something in the end table drawer, and then there’s suddenly something metallic and oiled resting heavily against his abused bottom lip, mouth open and spit slick with how desperate Makishima actually is.

“Suck.” Kougami says, and his voice is low and rough, dangerous in a way it rarely is and Makishima knows what it is that’s pressed against his lips, couldn’t forget the cold metal if he tried his damndest. It was tied into his dreams, was a constant ever-looming presence in the relationship between the two of them.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Kougami breathes, and Makishima believes it, can hear the dark fervor, the _hunger_ in that deep tone. Kougami’s fingers crook a little inside Makishima’s hole, digging, pushing a little deeper as Makishima whimpers, a wet tongue flicking out to lick at the rim of the barrel, tasting metal and gun oil and it makes him moan in a completely different way. “So be a good pet for me and _suck_.”

And oh god, Makishima’s fucking gone, long gone at this point, cheeks wet with exertion and crystalline tears as he laves the underside of the pistol with spit, bits sticking out catching rough on his tongue but he doesn’t even care as Kougami steadily feeds him the weapon, and he ends up just letting his mouth go slack until he can feel the trigger against his bottom lip, feeling it just shy off the back of his throat and fuck, it’s so much bigger than he ever thought it would be, heavier too.

He moans at the thought, hips swivelling as Kougami rewards him with another slick finger, opening his hole up even as he closes his mouth around the barrel.

“Fuck.” Kougami swears suddenly in English, and Makishima cracks open his eyes to see how Kougami is staring at him with those dark eyes, danger reflected in those eyes and his face wrecked as he fucking impales Makishima on both his fingers and his gun. It’s ruthless and unforgiving and absolutely everything Makishima wants from the other man.

It’s _perfect_.

He sucks eagerly, cheeks hollowing as his cock jerks, and Kougami is saying something to him, but all Makishima can concentrate on is trying not to gag himself on the pistol, whimpers and moans muffled by it and feeling the sight at the top dig into the roof of his mouth, a pain that just makes everything feel that much better.

“I wish you could fucking see yourself. Christ- _fuck_ -” Kougami’s fucking wrecked, voice stretched tight and like he’s about to come just looking at Makishima. “Sucking on anything I give you like you’re fucking starving for it, just _gagging_ for it, I-”

He swears in English again, voice cracking and slowly pulls the gun out just slightly, Makishima trying to swallow it down constantly.

“You’re such a fucking whore,” He whispers and Makishima can’t do this, the dark, degrading tone and the hungry eyes looking at _him_ , only seeing _him_. “Would you do this for anybody? Get down on your knees like this and let yourself be just used like this?”

Makishima murmurs, incomprehensible as he wraps his swollen mouth around the pistol and hollows his cheeks again, soft suckling sounds almost obscenely loud as he continually fucks his hips eagerly back onto Kougami’s fingers, unerringly finding his prostate and listening to how Makishima shrieks around the gun.

“And to think,” Kougami croons, pressing closer until Makishima feels like he’s breaking apart, torn between fucking himself back until he comes like that or swallowing the gun down until he’s fucking choking on it, sucking on it until he’s gagging and Kougami has to bark at him to stop. “We were so scared of you, so worried about all your plans and all of your little friends. When really, all you really were after all of that was another wet cunt begging for fingers in his ass.”

Makishima chokes, too busy glutting himself but he moans something that isn’t even a word, his cheeks painted obscene colours as something akin to embarrassment settles over him like a film of sick. He shudders, stiffening and his hole clenches tightly around Kougami’s two fingers and he comes like that, still suckling his gun as his come paints the filthy carpet and he’s left panting and blinking up at Kougami with hooded golden eyes.

“You,” Kougami says, yanking his fingers out of Kougami’s hole to fumble with his own belt and button and fly. “are one filthy fucking pet.” he draws his cock out, long and heavy, thick veins running along the sides and the head purple with want.

“Only for you.” Makishima murmurs brazenly, or tries to say around the gun, still too busy sucking and swallowing, needy hole a reddened target as Kougami, already so close over the edge, strips his cock hard and fast, eyes locked onto to how obscene Makishima looks, still sucking his gun and moaning like a fucking slut for it.

It’s to the thought of Makishima swallowing down his cock after swallowing down his gun, that Kougami comes on Makishima, listening to how Makishima pants and mewls, hips writhing and rocking as he begs for more.

He absently watches as Makishima slowly collects himself from where he lay, shaking and used, the pale form of the other man never looking quite like a depraved and fallen biblical figure as he did right now, Kougami settles back into the arm chair with legs slightly spread and flaccid cock hanging out from the open fly of his trousers.

They’d be doing this again, Kougami decides, carefully observing every movement the other man makes from his place on the carpeted floor, and it would definitely be sooner rather than later.

**Author's Note:**

> nice.
> 
> also i'm sorry and hmu on [tumblr](http://www.maripoja.tumblr.com)


End file.
